Puppet
by melusine
Summary: The story of Gestahl's Magicite Research Project and young Kefka's magicite-fueled descent into madness.


**Puppet  
**by melusine

_Chapter One_

Cid sighed as he prepared the mixture, diluting the magicite solution and pouring it into a number of vials. He wished that Gestahl hadn't been so determined to recreate the Mage Knights. The recovery of the ancient texts had been bad enough, but the Emperor's recent acquisition in Jidoor was far worse: an antique necklace whose beaded strands were made of crystalized Esper blood. He wondered how many noblewomen had worn it without knowing its gory secret.

Earlier, Gestahl had sent a team of soldiers to scour the streets of Vector for a suitable test subject. The scientist knew that the soldiers wouldn't do the exhaustive search they had promised their Emperor. They would most likely sample the seedier attractions of the slums before kidnapping the first unfortunate person they encountered.

A scream sounded from the hallway, wordless and piercing, mixed with shouts and curses from the soldiers. He heard a thud followed by a whimper, then the door opened. "Here's the brat," one of the soldiers slurred as he pushed a frail youth into the room.

"You're kidding," Cid said numbly. "This procedure hasn't been done in centuries! It could be dangerous!"

The sargent jerked the child up by an arm. "The little filth is practically at death's door already," he spat. "We found him in a pile of trash outside the cathouse. Brynn thought he was a wench!" the sargent brayed with laughter.

Cid felt his stomach lurch. "L-leave him here," he managed. The sargent nodded and dropped the boy to the floor, then left. The rest of the soldiers followed him, one pausing to kick the child in the back.

Once the soldiers had left, Cid knelt down and helped the child up. A pair of dark eyes peered shyly at him through a tangled mass of blond locks. He looked to be around eight or nine years old, but it was hard to make an accurate assumption. "What's your name?" Cid asked him.

"Kefka," he replied quietly as he looked around the room.

"Hello Kefka, my name is Cid," the scientist said. "I'm a scientist who works for Emperor Gestahl on the Magitech Research Project."

Kefka shivered, his thin garment doing little to protect him from the chill of the lab. Cid removed his lab coat and placed it around the boy's shoulders.

"Thanks," Kefka mumbled.

An intercom crackled to life on the table. "Is the test subject here yet?" Emperor Gestahl asked, his raspy voice made tinny by the microphone.

Cid looked down at Kefka. "Yes, your Majesty," he answered.

"Excellent," the Emperor said. "I'll be right there. Prepare the subject for the first injection."

--

"This is just a precaution," Cid said as he fastened the straps on the gurney to Kefka's wrists and ankles. Kefka nodded sleepily and the scientist was glad to see that the sedatives had started to take effect.

The Emperor stood opposite Cid, impatiently tapping his foot. Cid had managed to convince him that Kefka be asleep for the experiment, saying that doing so would prevent the possibility of broken needles and unnecessary trauma. Gestahl snorted. "How long does it take for these drugs to take effect?"

"Not much longer, your Majesty," Cid said as Kefka's breathing slowed and his eyelids drooped. A minute passed, then another, and another. Finally, Cid reached over and snapped his fingers next to Kefka's ears. No response. "We're ready."

The scientist drew a small amount of the magicite solution into a syringe, mentally making calculations as to the dosage. The texts had been vague about the effects of overdose, but what they had hinted at was chilling. He tapped on the side of the syringe to release the bubbles.

"Is that all?" Gestahl asked.

"Too much could be dangerous," Cid said as he cleaned a place on one of Kefka's upper arms.

"I want results," the Emperor growled.

"But--!" he began.

"These street children are tough." Gestahl said in the same icy tone as before. "Do it."

"Yes, your Majesty." Cid reinserted the syringe into the first vial and pulled up on the stopper, watching Gestahl's face as the syringe filled. The Emperor nodded and Cid withdrew the syringe, which was filled to capacity. The scientist swallowed, a sick lump forming in his throat. Gritting his teeth, he slid the needle into the boy's spindly arm and slowly injected the solution into his veins. The Emperor watched intently.

The injection seemed to stretch on too long for Cid's comfort. He held his other hand over Kefka's wrist, feeling his pulse. He found himself wishing that it would stop, but the child's heartbeat never faltered. Cid could feel Gestahl's greedy eyes on him as he withdrew the empty syringe and bandaged Kefka's arm. He hoped the Emperor was happy. "Now all we can do is wait," he said.


End file.
